When Love Is Found
by Izzyaro
Summary: It's been a long time since Salazar could see anything worth celebrating in the depths of winter. Over the years, three people change that.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.**

* * *

Salazar really should have suspected something. Godric was hardly subtle, at least outside of battle. It had been obvious that there was something on his mind, but Salazar had thought it related to the rumours of a colony of giants that had been causing trouble.

This...was not that.

"What do you think?"

Salazar rubbed his eyes, but nothing had changed. The box Godric had presented him with still lay open on the table, and the half dozen brand new knives gleamed in the winter sunlight. Godric himself hadn't stopped beaming.

"I did consider the merits of a sword, but this is a better starting point considering you haven't finished growing yet, and it suits your current battle style. We can certainly consider other options in the future though..."

Salazar was only half-listening. Each blade was of a different size and shape, but every one was beautifully made, and of the highest quality. His fingers shook slightly as they traced over the leather grip of the closest.

"That one is for throwing," said Godric. "Feel how it's weighted differently?" He picked it up, and balanced it in his hand. "I always preferred closer quarters, but I think this will suit you better. I can show you the proper technique later..." His voice trailed off, and he frowned. "Salazar?"

Salazar shook himself, and looked up. The excitement in Godric's eyes was fading, and the sight made Salazar's stomach ache. At some point in the last few months, Godric's disappointment had started to mean something. He looked at the knives again, and forced his mouth to work.

"Why?"

Godric shrugged. "I wanted to." At Salazar's flat look, he spread his hands. "It's just something my family does. My great-grandmother started it to give her family something to look forward to during the winter, and it's just become a tradition." He looked down at the knife in his hands, and placed it back with the others with a sigh. "I just...it's been a while since I had anyone to share it with."

Salazar looked away. He knew that feeling all too well.

"What's wrong?"

Salazar opened his mouth, then abruptly snapped it shut again and shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing at all. It is...more than I ever expected."

Godric frowned, but before he could say anything Salazar grabbed his staff and pushed himself upright. "Please excuse me. There is something I must attend to."

"Salazar," Godric began, but the rest of his words were lost in the spinning rush of Apparation.

Salazar reappeared at the edge of the city. He kept his balance with the ease of long practice, ignoring the way his leg throbbed in the icy wind, and took a deep breath.

Godric's gift, like Godric himself, was absurd. They had known each other for less than a year, and the majority of that time had hardly been cordial. Salazar certainly respected the older man's skill, and knew Godric was fond of him too, but their relationship did not warrant something like this.

And yet Godric had done it anyway. Of course he had. And not just any gift, but one he knew Salazar would use and appreciate. Something Salazar could use to defend himself with. He hadn't asked for anything in return, but he had gone to so much trouble that it would be height of bad manners to let matters rest as they were.

Salazar gritted his teeth. It seemed that, for the first time in years, he was going to have to give someone a gift.

Of course, actually acquiring a gift to give was a rather more complex matter. Salazar had a little money, but not nearly enough to match the blades Godric had given him. Stealing something of appropriate worth would be simplicity itself, but somehow Salazar didn't think Godric would approve of that. And for some reason, the idea just wasn't appealing as it once had been. At the very least, it would be too easy.

The wind howled, and Salazar hunched back into the shelter of the wall with a muffled curse. Only Godric, and the people related to him, would think there was anything worth celebrating in the shortest day of the year.

Salazar stopped short. His own family had never celebrated the Solstice, but that didn't mean they had ignored it. It was the shortest day of the year, the day when the dark was close and magic burned the brightest. It was the time of wild magic, of the death of the old year and the birth of the new.

It was the time for new beginnings.

Salazar's vision blurred, the wind making his eyes water, and he quickly wiped the moisture away. He had too much to do to be lost in the past. There was magic in the air, and he had wasted too much time already.

A flurry of snow spun through the air, but Salazar was already gone.

Hours later, Salazar was beginning to regret his decision. Or at least, he would have if he had any energy left to spare for regret. His head felt thick and his leg was throbbing worse than ever, not helped by the large case under his other arm. It took him a moment to realise he had arrived back at the inn, but before he could work out how to navigate the door it was thrown open.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Salazar blinked blearily up. "Out."

"Out?" Godric repeated. "Salazar, you're exhausted! What happened? And what's that?"

Salazar yawned, and shoved the case into Godric's arms. "For you," he mumbled. He started for the stairs, and after a moment heard Godric catch up.

"Will you just answer my questions!"

Salazar stumbled on the stair, and spared a moment to scowl back at Godric. "I thought it was obvious that I was giving you something."

He pushed open the door and all but collapsed into the closest chair. His leg screamed a protest, and Salazar fumbled in his robes for a pain potion before remembering that he'd run out. The ingredients he had been planning to use to make more had gone on more important things.

"Salazar..."

Salazar glanced round, and saw that Godric had finally opened the case. Inside were a dozen vials, each filled with a different potion. Salazar waved a hand. "Few of them are new," he said. "Should work fine though."

Godric stared at the vials in much the same way Salazar suspected he had looked at his own gift hours earlier. "Salazar, what...You didn't have to do this!"

"I didn't do it because I had to," Salazar snapped, though the yawn that escaped rather robbed his irritation of its edge. Godric opened his mouth to protest, until Salazar pinned him in place with a glare.

"You shared one of your traditions with me," he said curtly.

Godric's eyes widened, and he looked back at the potions. "This is what your family does?"

Salazar fought back another yawn with an effort. His mother had always made this look much easier. "Magic is strong now. The world is changing. It is a good time to create something new."

"That sounds like something Rowena would say," said Godric quietly. He picked up the closest vial, his expression turning distant. "I never thought much of it, but her family always seemed a bit...distant at the Solstice. Like they had other things on their minds." He huffed a laugh, and placed the vial back in the case. "And that's saying something, considering how they are the rest of the year."

"Are you really one to talk?" Salazar asked, but he made a mental note to pay more attention when Godric talked about his old friend in the future. She sounded like someone whose company Salazar might appreciate.

At the very least, she couldn't be more disruptive than Godric.

Godric continued to mumble to himself as he looked through the case, and Salazar found himself relaxing. The room was warm, his leg was as bearable as it ever was, and his magic hummed beneath his skin the way it did after a particularly close-fought battle, albeit one without the risk of bodily harm.

Salazar didn't even twitch when a hand came to rest on his shoulder, but he did force his eyes open to meet Godric's green ones as they crinkled into a smile.

"I think someone used a little too much magic."

"Did not," Salazar mumbled.

"Of course. So you can make your own way to the bed?"

Salazar tried to scowl, but now it was impossible to stop the yawn. "Certainly, but this chair is comfortable."

Godric laughed, and the next thing Salazar knew Godric had swept him up out of the chair and onto the bed. "Godric!"

"You know how stiff your leg gets when you sleep like that, and you are grumpy enough in winter as it is," said Godric cheerfully. He ruffled Salazar's hair, and dodged back out of arm's reach before Salazar could retaliate. "Go on and rest. You can tell me what all these are in the morning."

Salazar would have argued, but the bed really was more comfortable than the chair and he didn't really want to. What he did do was reach out to snag the corner of Godric's tunic.

"Thank you."

Godric blinked, then he reached down and pulled Salazar into a tight hug. "You are very welcome," he whispered.

For the first time, Salazar didn't try to break free. Godric wasn't family, wasn't even close, but he was there. On this night, that was enough.

* * *

"Are you sure that this is acceptable?"

Godric rolled his eyes. "Salazar, Rowena was the one who asked us to come. With Robert attending the Christ Mass and her family visiting the continent, there is no reason not to." When Salazar's frown didn't lighten he sighed. "It will be fine, Salazar. You have been getting along well, have you not?"

"Better than before, not that that is saying much," Salazar muttered. He did enjoy Rowena's company, but the thought of spending the Solstice with someone other than Godric still left him feeling a little uneasy. He forced that thought away and shook his head. "All right."

Godric needed no further encouragement. He thumped on the door, which swung open almost immediately to reveal Rowena. She was wearing new robes of deep red, and Salazar saw Godric's jaw drop for an instant before he remembered himself. "Rowena."

"Godric, Salazar, it is good to see you both. Please come in."

Salazar nodded to her. "Thank you for inviting us." He shrugged out of his cloak, smiling at the house-elf who promptly took it from him, and hobbled through to the warmth of the main hall. Rowena smiled at him.

"It is my pleasure. It has been too long since we were last able to do this."

"I will drink to that," said Godric. He strode past Salazar to the fireplace, then stopped short. Salazar joined him in time to see his smile fade. Salazar frowned, and poked him with his staff.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," said Godric, far too quickly. Salazar's frown deepened, but then Rowena cleared her throat.

"Were you looking for these?"

Salazar glanced round in time to see Rowena place a large box on the table. All traces of disappointment vanished from Godric's face, and he bounded over. "You kept them."

Rowena raised an eyebrow. "Of course I did."

Interest piqued, Salazar crossed the hall to see for himself. The box was old and unmarked, but the care with which Rowena removed the lid spoke more eloquently. Inside were eleven handmade decorations. Salazar stared at them, then at Godric who had gone bright red.

"You made these?"

"One every year, from the time he was five," Rowena confirmed, with a smile. She picked up the oldest, a roughly carved piece of blue-tinted crystal. "Though he still has yet to tell me what this is."

Godric sniffed. "If you cannot work it out, then you do not deserve to know."

Salazar cocked his head to one side. "In other words, it was so long ago that you can't remember what it was."

He dodged away when Godric swiped at him, but Rowena laughed. "I believe so." She set the crystal on the mantelpiece, and picked up another with equal care. "He has improved somewhat."

Salazar, who had watched Godric spend the last three weeks handcrafting Rowena's gift and knew exactly how skilled their friend was, couldn't argue in the slightest. Godric huffed and folded his arms.

"It's so nice to be appreciated."

Rowena smiled, and laid a hand on his arm. "I put them out every year you were gone."

Godric took her hand, and the look that passed between them was intense enough that Salazar had to turn away. He cast about for some way to change the subject, and found just the thing in a strange spicy aroma.

"What is that?"

Rowena tore her eyes from Godric and smiled. "It's an old recipe my family brought back from the East. It's one of the few traditions we maintain each year."

"I have been looking forward to this," said Godric. "It has been too long."

"And whose fault was that?" Rowena asked, but even as Godric flinched her eyes softened in contrition. "I am sorry."

Godric looked away. "As am I."

Salazar shifted uncomfortable. He had accepted the fact that Godric and Rowena shared a history that he couldn't begin to understand, but moments like this still made him feel like an outsider.

As if he were reading Salazar's mind, Godric looked up and caught his eye. A small smile touched his face.

"Though we did come up with a few traditions of our own."

Salazar snorted. "You mean you surprised me with a miniature armoury out of nowhere."

"And you burned yourself out creating eight different potions from scratch in one afternoon," Godric snapped back. "So you can hardly talk."

Rowena's eyebrows shot up. "Eight?"

Salazar shrugged. "You know how it is at this time."

"I do," she confirmed. "And you will have to show me those potions. For now though, why don't you tell me what other traditions the two of came up with?"

Godric ran a hand through his hair. "Very little," he admitted. "It was mainly just an exchange of gifts, and trying to stay out of danger for at least one day."

Rowena looked between the two of them, her expression clearly sceptical. "You stayed out of trouble."

"More or less."

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "Really? I vividly recall spending one Solstice hiding from a coven of vampires in the catacombs-"

"That was the exception, rather than the rule," said Godric loudly. "And no, the warlock doesn't count either, he was barely a threat in the first place and it was taken care of by noon."

"That's easy for you to say," Salazar muttered. "You weren't the one who got buried in Devil's Snare."

Rowena shook her head. "I can barely imagine it. The two of you have done so much." She turned away, her hands running over the ornaments still in the box. "I do not think I could have done it. And yet part of me still wishes that I had been with you."

Salazar exchanged a slightly panicked look with Godric, and gestured for his friend to do something. Godric scowled, but moved forward to touch Rowena's arm. "You would have helped enormously," he said. "If nothing else, I am certain you wouldn't have mistaken an inverse Phoenician Runic warding system for an irregular Etruscan one."

"There were four wizards and a werewolf trying to kill me at the time," Salazar protested. "I'd like to see you do any better. But I do see your point. Rowena is certainly too sensible to challenge a half-ogre to a contest of strength."

"You know perfectly well that that was to trick it into lowering its guard!"

Rowena rubbed at her temples. "This is exactly what I am talking about. It's a miracle the two of you survived."

Salazar sighed. "Godric did decapitate the ogre with a minimum of collateral damage."

"And Salazar did break the wards before either of us died," Godric agreed. He smiled at Rowena. "We're not quite so bad at this."

Rowena shook her head, and squeezed his hand. "I am very glad you are safe. Both of you," she added, glancing back at Salazar.

"So are we," Salazar agreed. Godric snorted and Rowena rolled her eyes, and Salazar had to smile. "And it is good to be here tonight."

"Agreed," said Godric immediately.

The last of the tension faded from Rowena's shoulders, and with it fled the last of Salazar's lingering resentment. Rowena had known Godric for a long time, but the events of the last few years had shaken her.

It didn't matter now. None of them were going anywhere.

Salazar looked at his friends and nodded to himself. This wasn't such a bad way to spend the winter either.

* * *

Salazar found Helga in the hall. She was standing by the great fireplace examining the ornaments on the mantle, and jumped back with a start when Salazar coughed.

"Oh, Salazar! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you-"

"Helga," Salazar interrupted gently, and was relieved when Helga settled immediately. He gave her a small smile. "This is your home. I am the one who should apologise for not announcing my presence properly." He nodded past her. "I certainly cannot blame you for being distracted."

Helga smiled back. "I have never seen magic used like this." She pointed to a familiar chunk of crystal. "Though I am not entirely clear on what this is supposed to be."

Salazar snorted. "Then that makes three of us. Apparently it was one of Godric's earliest works."

Helga smiled, and gestured to the enchanted eagle next to it. "He has certainly improved." She hesitated, then glanced at him. "Did...did you work on this too?"

Salazar blinked. "As a matter of fact I did. Godric asked me to inscribe some Runes to ensure longevity. How did you know?"

Helga looked down. "I don't know. It just felt like you."

Salazar's eyebrows shot up. For someone who had only been actively studying magic for a few months, that level of perception was incredible. Her wand was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn't as surprisingly as it should have been. They were all familiar with Helga's innate gift for wandless magic by now.

"That is very impressive," he said. "It took Rowena two weeks to recognise that."

Helga's head shot up. "R-really?"

Salazar nodded. "You have a true gift."

He spoke only the truth, but Helga's jaw tightened and she looked away. Salazar frowned, then understanding hit and he cursed himself for a fool.

He, of all people, knew better than to stir memories like that.

"It is very different from what I used to know."

Salazar hadn't expected her to want to talk, but he certainly wasn't going to complain. Helga's fingers traced over the silver feathers of Rowena's eagle, and her voice was low enough that Salazar had to strain to hear it. "This time of year was always a time for family. I cannot go back, it would not be safe for them or for me, but I wish..." She shook he head and glanced back at him. "I am sorry. You have all been so kind. I have no right to complain."

"Of course you do," said Salazar quietly. He stepped closer, but before he could say anything the door was thrown open and Godric and Rowena entered, both flushed and covered with snow.

"Well, that is Robert gone for the rest of the day," said Godric cheerfully. He ruffled his hair, sending half-melted slush flying, and turned to take Rowena's cloak. "And he is visiting with his parents tonight, so we shall not be disturbed."

Rowena nodded as she moved to warm herself by the fire. "He will return in the morning."

Salazar felt Helga shift next to him, and grimaced. Although she had been raised in the faith, Helga's most recent experiences with a priest had been far from positive. No one had been foolish enough remark upon it when she asked to remain behind.

Salazar was glad she had. There would have been something missing from their usual celebration without her. Strange that he should think so, they had only know her a matter of months after all, but he couldn't help it.

Right now though, she was still upset. Salazar turned back in time to see her summon a smile, but she caught his eye and shook her head. Salazar frowned, but gave a curt nod. He was hardly going to press the matter now.

Unfortunately, neither of their friends were stupid.

"Helga, whatever is the matter?"

Salazar silently cursed Rowena's perceptiveness. Helga flinched and ducked her head. "It's nothing," she said. "Please, do not worry yourself."

Salazar raised an eyebrow. Godric frowned, but Rowena went to her and took her hands. "You can ask anything here," she said gently. "We will never reproach you for it."

Helga smiled back. "I know." She coughed and looked up. "I was just remembering, and, well, we used to have a Yule log."

Salazar's breath caught in his throat. Godric shot him a quick look, but Helga was still speaking, her voice stronger now as she held Rowena's gaze. "Every year my father and brothers would go into the forest. I would help my mother prepare the food, and we would sit and tell tales until the sun rose again. I do not know if it is a magical custom, but..."

"It is not unheard of," Rowena told her. "My own family do not follow it, but I believe Godric's do."

Salazar blinked. Godric had only ever mentioned the gift giving as part of his family traditions. Godric ran a hand through his hair. "They do. It wasn't very practical when we were travelling though, so we fell out of the practice." He turned to Salazar. "What do you think?"

Salazar bit back the first response that came to mind. Godric would never do anything like this without Salazar's agreement. Rowena too was looking at him, and Salazar trusted her equally. A Yule log. He understood the tradition, respected it certainly, but to have one here...

But Helga's face was brighter than it had been all week, and Godric and Rowena would be here, and finally Salazar sighed.

"I do not see why we could not have one tonight."

He saw Godric and Rowena exchange a look, but Helga's brilliant smile meant he didn't care. He glanced at Godric and smiled. "I'm sure Godric would be happy to locate one for you."

Godric laughed, and clapped him on the back hard enough to make him stagger. "I will see what I can do."

He was as good as his word. Barely an hour had passed before an enormous oak log was burning merrily at the end of the hall.

Admittedly, it wasn't as bad as Salazar had feared. The size and heat were enough to stir memories best forgotten, but Rowena had charmed the flames to remain contained the instant the fire had been lit, and Godric's presence was more reassuring still. Salazar had never seen a fire his friend couldn't control, and this would cause no problems.

Still, Salazar had been happy to take a seat further away from the blaze. Rowena and Godric sat closer to the heat, and the low murmur of their voices was a soothing counterpart to the crackling flames. The effect was rather soporific, but before Salazar could doze off fully Helga took a seat next to him.

"Thank you for helping with this," she said, with a smile. "This was always my favourite part of the winter."

"It is only fitting," said Salazar. He straightened on the bench, shaking his head to clear it. "You are one of us, and you have a place here just as we do."

Helga's eyes went very wide, but the smile that touched her face was breathtaking. "Thank you." She stared round the hall, at the decorations gleaming in the firelight, and the gifts waiting to be opened by the hearth. Salazar smiled and leaned back against the table, and a moment later she glanced back at him.

"What about you?"

Salazar frowned. "Excuse me?"

Helga blushed, but continued to meet his gaze. "You said that Godric started the tradition of giving gifts between you, and that Rowena introduced the decorations and the food, but what about your family?"

Salazar opened his mouth, but the words died in his throat. He looked round at the room, and despite the warmth of the blazing Yule log he was suddenly very cold. The smell of the wild boar, which had seemed so appetising mere moments before, now made his stomach roil as his appetite fled.

What had his contribution been here?

Then a hand rested on his shoulder, and Salazar looked up to see Godric's eyes fill with fond exasperation.

"I don't know about family traditions," he said, "but I do know that I wouldn't be here without you."

Salazar stared at him. "Godric, you're the best duellist in the country. The majority of the times you did encounter problems were because you were trying to keep me safe."

Godric shook his head. "You saved my life as many times, if not more, but that it not what I was referring to."

"I do not understand."

It wasn't an admission he was used to making. Godric's grip tightened on his shoulder. "I would have gotten myself killed," he said softly.

"Godric-"

"You know it as well as I, Salazar. Sooner or later I would have faced a foe I could not defeat, and I would have fought them anyway."

Salazar swallowed. The very thought turned his stomach, but he could see it all too clearly. Godric would have blazed brightly and gone down in history as one of the most feared warriors of the age, but he would have burned out. He would have died in battle, fighting to save lives, but he would have died.

"But I had someone to tell me when to stop," Godric continued. He gave a crooked smile, so different his usual grin but every bit as genuine. "And I had someone to keep out of trouble."

Salazar couldn't suppress a snort, but his throat was too tight for words. His eyes burned and he looked away, only to find himself staring into Helga's deep blue eyes.

"I wouldn't be here without you either," she whispered. She gave him a shy smile, and warmth flooded Salazar's body.

"Well, I would," said Rowena dryly. Godric rolled his eyes and Helga frowned, but Rowena just raised an eyebrow at Salazar. "I wouldn't even be alone. But I do not think I would be as happy."

"I'm touched," said Salazar, and though his tone was equally dry he couldn't keep from smiling. Godric threw up his hands in exasperation, but Helga laughed. The sound rang through the hall, and banished the last of Salazar's unease. Rowena's features were soft with affection, and Salazar met Godric's dancing eyes and surrendered to the inevitable.

This was his family. Unconventional and a bit broken, but they were his, and he was theirs and nothing could change that.

His parents would be proud.

* * *

 **Merry Christmas everyone!**

 **And if anyone has any questions about the Founders, or about any of my fics, feel free to drop by my tumblr! All the details are on my profile.**


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